Mistletoe Mischief

This short story is from <Heartwarming Collection of Short Stories for Seniors: 2 Books in 1> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!

Christmas, my child, is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it’s Christmas. –Dale Evans.

“Oh, come on, George! It’s Christmas—where’s your holiday spirit?” Evelyn teased, holding up a bright red ribbon with a mischievous grin.

“I left it somewhere around 1973,” George deadpanned, crossing his arms in protest. Evelyn rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s time to dust it off because we’re in charge of this year’s holiday party, and it’s going to be festive whether you like it or not.”

George wasn’t a fan of the holiday hullabaloo, but Evelyn always managed to drag him into these things. Their playful banter had been a fixture for years at the senior center, but organizing the whole holiday party? That was a new level of torture.

“Alright, Mr. Grinch,” Evelyn smirked, already untangling strings of lights. “I’ll handle the decorations, the games, and—oh, look what I found!” She held up a sprig of mischief, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You’re not seriously hanging that up, are you?” George squinted, suspicious of her motives.

“Of course! It’s a holiday must!” Evelyn chirped, dangling the mistletoe over his head. “Come on, George, give someone a little kiss under this.”

“Not a chance.” George immediately stepped back, but their friends caught sight of the scene and began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Oh, come on,” George groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at Evelyn, who was now barely containing her laughter.

“Well, the crowd has spoken, George.” Evelyn winked. Reluctant, George rolled his eyes and planted the quickest, most awkward kiss on her cheek. The room erupted in cheers while George muttered something about mistletoe being the most unfair of Christmas traditions.

As the party planning continued, so did their bickering. Evelyn insisted on organizing a Secret Santa exchange while George grumbled about how commercialized gift-giving had become. Evelyn pushed for Christmas carols, and George suggested “the sounds of silence” might be a better option. Every decision became a playful battle of enthusiasm versus indifference, but beneath the teasing, they both enjoyed the back-and-forth.

When the night of the party arrived, the senior center was aglow with twinkling lights, tinsel, and mistletoe. Despite all his complaints, George couldn’t help but admit the place looked pretty impressive.

“Not bad,” he mumbled, trying not to sound too pleased. Then, to his surprise, Evelyn approached with a small gift box in hand.

“I know you didn’t want to do Secret Santa,” she began with a wink, “but I thought I’d get you something anyway.”

George blinked. “Evelyn, you really didn’t have to—”

“Oh, just open it,” she interrupted, nudging the box toward him. Inside was something George never expected—an antique train set, the very one he’d talked about as a kid but never had. For a moment, he just stared, speechless, before a grin broke out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered, his usual gruff exterior melting away.

“I figured it was about time you had one,” Evelyn smiled warmly.

“This is incredible,” George beamed. For once, he was lost for words.

“Well,” Evelyn teased, “I guess that holiday spirit wasn’t buried in 1973 after all.” And as George looked around at the festive room, his heart filled with unexpected warmth. Maybe, just maybe, Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.

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